The incoming freshmen have caused me the first of what I'm sure will be many incoveniences.

This one's pretty big. My keypad code to get into the apartment building where I live no longer works.

Well, that's simplifying it a little. You see, the code I was personally assigned never worked. They forgot to activate it, just like they forgot to put my name on the directory out front, even though putting my roommate's name on it didn't seem to pose a problem for them. I reminded them about once a month for the first few months, then gave up.

Thankfully, they never remove the old codes from the system, so Adam and I both continued to use Ayne's old code.

Well, the party's over. With this wave of incoming inhabitants (rather few of them freshmen, I'll concede), they've decided to get their act together and clean out the system, deactivating all the old codes belonging to people who don't live there anymore.

But they never activated my code.

This leaves me codeless, unable to grant myself entry. Since I have a key to both the front door (code entry site the first) and the staircase, this does not prevent me from accessing my domicile, but it does deny me the use of my precious elevators (code entry site the second).

A ray of hope! Adam's girlfriend is moving into our apartment building. (For real, like into her own apartment, not just staying over at our place every night like last year.) One would assume that she is being granted her own fresh new code, and that she'll be willing to share with us poor codeless bastards. And - what fortuitous timing! - she is arriving today. This will save me the trouble of going to the rental office and telling Jessica, the nice young woman whom I see once a month for long enough to hand her a check, that my code doesn't work, to which she'll reply, "Oh really? I'm so sorry! I'll get them to fix that right away." And a month later, it still won't work.

Some unrelated navel-gazing: This diary was accessed via its first Google search yesterday. The search, oddly enough, was for the phrase "doo doo", which turns up (on about the 19th page of results) my musings on ZZ Top's "Sharp Dressed Man".

To my relief, the majority of results for this particular phrase are also song lyrics where instrumental sections are written out with the syllable "doo". (Popular examples include "Walk on the Wild Side" by Lou Reed, "Mrs. Robinson" by Simon and Garfunkel, and that Suzanne Vega song about the diner.)

I don't even want to know what this person was actually looking for.